


It'll be a breeze

by SilkySatan



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, Brief mentions of suicide, Death of a loved one, M/M, Panic attack(s), Parental Death, Sanster, Skippable Smut, The Void, ecto dicks, gaster is the royal scientist, gay shit, lewd artwork, light description of a panic attack, no graphic descriptions tho, porn drawings?, rated for later chapters, sans is a wannabe scientist, scientists - Freeform, will be sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-07-23 16:30:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7470951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilkySatan/pseuds/SilkySatan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sans just got an internship working for Dr. W. D. Gaster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. easy breezy

Sans could hardly believe he was standing on the front step of the Lab. He could still recall his trip here in his freshman year of high school, when it had finally dawned on him that he might have a future in the Underground. Ever since that day, he had dreamed of working under Dr. W. D. Gaster, Royal Scientist. That dream seemed to finally be coming true. As he stepped through the sliding glass doors, he felt the same whoosh of cool air over his bones as he had that day six years ago. Inside, however, nothing was the same at all. At the end of a short hallway was a warmly colored lobby, with elevators straight ahead, a help desk to the right, and a few bland armchairs to the left. It smelled of vanilla. Sans had no idea where to go for his first day, but there was no one at the help desk so he decided to just hop on an elevator and hope for the best. No one really cares where interns go, anyway, right? Unfortunately, he got to the elevators and realized that they required a keycard. He was supposed to get that today. He stood awkwardly in front of the elevators for a moment until one of them slid open.

Sans inhaled sharply upon seeing the man in the elevator. He was tall and lean, wearing a grey turtleneck underneath an open lab coat. He was intimidating with a strong jaw and two scars on his face, one to the left on his brow and one on his right cheek. He was Dr. W. D. Gaster, Royal Scientist. He was also pretty hot.

“You must be here to apply for the assistant position? You’re hired. I don’t have time to waste today.” Dr. Gaster shoved a clipboard into Sans’ hands before he could protest.

“Follow me. I know it’s your first day, so I’ll walk you to the lower labs today, but tomorrow I expect you to meet me there. We’ll be extremely busy for the next week. I’ll explain on the way.” The scientist was much taller than Sans, which made it difficult for him to keep up. He found himself half-jogging across the lobby in an effort not to get left behind. Dr. Gaster used his keycard to open a door behind the overstuffed lobby chairs and led Sans into a stairway that smelled of bleach and was lit so brightly with fluorescent bulbs that the back of his skull ached a little.

“I’m currently working on a very important project for King Asgore, and I’ve been out of an assistant for about a week. The only other scientists currently employed are studying the human souls and the barrier at the palace. Oh, here’s your keycard. You’ll be needing that. I don’t have anything particularly difficult for you to do today; you’ll essentially be some much-needed extra hands,” Dr. Gaster rattled off as he sped down the stairs. This seemed to be his normal pace, but Sans was several steps behind and quite out of breath by the time he reached the bottom.

“Sorry if I seem a bit… intense. I was just informed that the deadline for this project is one week from today, and I was expecting to have at least a month to finish it. I hope you can stay late fairly regularly.” Dr. Gaster situated himself in front of a desk by the door, not sitting down, and shuffled through several papers. He took the clipboard from Sans and scowled at it.

“actually, i can’t really stay late? also, um, i’m just supposed to be an intern? sorry, i haven’t really been able to get a word in edgewise until just now,” Sans joked, hoping that if he stayed lighthearted about this the repercussions wouldn’t be too bad.

“It seems you’ve been promoted, then, doesn’t it? You’ll do well not to question such fortunate things as promotions,” Dr. Gaster said with a wink. “As I’ve mentioned, I’m in dire need of an assistant. I’m sure you’ll learn quickly. You’ll have to. Also, you really need to be able to stay late. Can you make arrangements?” he asked absentmindedly, like he knew that Sans would make it work one way or the other. That may have been true, but Sans didn’t particularly appreciate the assumption.

“probably, i just have to look after my brother. i’m not quite sure what he can handle on his own yet.” Sans grimaced at the reminder of the past year’s unfortunate events.

Dr. Gaster looked up at him from the cluttered desk, expression unreadable. He waited a moment before speaking. “Carry these, would you?” He shoved an armful of papers into Sans’ chest, having all too much faith in Sans’ ability to hold onto them. He led Sans through an open door across the room and into what seemed like another lab entirely. It contained a huge metal contraption, as well as several computers and some other scientific equipment Sans was unfamiliar with.

“You’ll be helping me test this,” Dr. Gaster explained. “It’s a sort of weapon that will blast concentrated energy and magic at the barrier in hopes of destroying it. Asgore will be sending a team of guards to transport it to the palace on Monday morning, so we have to be sure it works and is safe before then.”

Dr. Gaster handed Sans a pair of plastic safety goggles and headed over to the closest computer. “I think I’ll just have you take notes on the readings for now.” He produced a small notebook from his lab coat pocket and placed it next to the keyboard. “I’ve been taking notes in this. I’ve got the computer all set up to display the readings, so just… don’t touch anything. I’ll be over here running the machine.” He pulled the chair out for Sans to sit down and then swept across the room to one of the more complex looking devices.

“uh, doc? i don’t have a pen. and i don’t particularly know what i’m lookin’ for,” Sans pointed out.

“Oh, right. There should be pens in the drawer there and also a reference chart. See the three lines on the monitor? They’re flat right now but they’ll be much more active when I turn the machine on. The reference chart will tell you what’s high, what’s low, and how frequently change is normal. It’ll take a bit for you to get the hang of it. For now, just write down any numbers that seem out of place. It’s the easiest job I have for you. I can explain what the lines mean later, maybe over lunch.”

Sans smiled at the thought of eating lunch with his (very attractive) idol and discussing something they were actually working on _together_ , even if he was only an assistant.

                                                                                                 

It was two o’clock in the afternoon by the time either of them thought to check if it was time for lunch yet. Dr. Gaster had laughed and said that they could take lunch late, despite having technically missed the break. He was the boss, after all. Sans hadn’t brought a lunch, but he told Dr. Gaster that he wasn’t hungry anyway. Dr. Gaster had then forcefully shared his food, insisting that Sans eat something. He said he couldn’t have his assistant getting shaky when there was still so much testing to be done. Sans didn’t really see why they had to test the machine so much. It had certainly worked every time they tried it so far. Dr. Gaster explained that he planned to analyze the notes that Sans was taking and determine the safety and reliability of the machine, which he called a Blaster. Sans resolved to take better notes.  

After lunch they went right back to testing the Blaster. It became easy to fall into the rhythm of checking the stats, checking the chart, and scribbling down abnormal numbers. Sans even got to the point where he only had to check the chart once or twice during each test. Eventually he got up the courage to initiate a conversation with Dr. Gaster.

“so, dr. gaster, what happens after the machine is brought to the palace?” he asked tentatively in between scrawling down numbers.

“Please call me Gaster, Sans. ‘Doctor’ feels entirely too refined. After the machine is brought to the palace it will be reassembled and then inspected by the King, along with our notes and analyses. Then, if Asgore approves it, it will be fired at the barrier. With any luck it will succeed and we will be freed. There’s quite a bit on the line here,” Gaster joked.

“hold on, did you say ‘reassembled’? like, we have to disassemble it first?” Sans queried incredulously.

“Well, yes, of course!” Gaster laughed. “You didn’t think we’d be transporting it like that, did you? It’s well over ten feet tall and weighs over a ton!”

Sans blushed, a bit embarrassed. He thought that’s what the team of guards was for. He harrumphed and returned to taking notes, and they fell into a companionable silence.  
  
Sans took a second to think over the process Gaster had described, and one thing stood out to him. “Are you nervous for the King’s inspection?”

“No, I don’t think I am. It's not exactly like a few weeks extra in the Underground will hurt anyone. If it doesn't work we'll just tweak it and try again. It’ll be a breeze,” Gaster responded, smiling to himself.

Sans mused that, as first days go, it could’ve gone a lot worse. He got promoted to a paying position instead of an internship, made friends with his boss, and actually learned about some science-y stuff. Easy breezy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow first chapter. It should pick up a bit next time. Fair warning, this is gonna be a pretty emotional fic


	2. sounds like a blast

Time seemed to have developed a habit of getting away from them. They fell into the swing of things so well, testing the machine and chatting amicably, that they both forgot to check the time – again. It was just after six o’clock when Sans finally glanced up at the clock on the wall.

“oh shit, I mean damn, I mean – fuck, I gotta go,” Sans sputtered frantically. He still had to walk home. Hopefully the ferryperson was still around. “sorry about the, uh, language,” he groaned, hoping he hadn’t managed to sour the relationship forming with his boss. Thankfully, Gaster just laughed.

“That’s alright, Sans, you’re technically off the clock. Also, I think we got enough testing done today. Tomorrow will mostly be paperwork and calculations to aid in my analysis of your notes,” Gaster explained, pushing his rolling desk chair away from the device that controlled the Blaster.

“sounds like a blast!” sans joked as he put away the pen and reference chart. “get it? blast?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be leaving?” Gaster asked, suppressing a chuckle.

“yeah, shit, i really gotta go. see you tomorrow!” he called before rushing out of the still open door to the anteroom.

Gaster sat down at the chair Sans had been in, sliding the notebook closer to himself. Sans had left it on the desk for Gaster, recognizing that it belonged more exclusively to him, unlike the pen and the chart. He flipped through it, examining the notes Sans had taken. They were painstaking: every number even close to being out of range was written down. On some of the less common spikes, he had even sketched the readings so it was clear how the numbers were to be interpreted.

As he flipped through the pages, he noticed one page had been dog-eared and torn partially out. It contained notes not on the readings, but on the machine itself – and on Gaster. Sans had drawn the interface Gaster was sitting at, and labeled some of the buttons. Most of them just had things like ‘beam intensifies’ or ‘jaws close partially,’ showing that he was just making the best of his observations. Gaster smiled, shaking his head softly. This _intern_ , as he was supposed to be, had taken it upon himself to try and work out the Blaster, even whilst taking such detailed notes on the readings.

On the other side of the page was a drawing of Gaster himself. Sans had sketched what he looked like sitting hunched over the table, and had drawn a messy portrait in the margins. Gaster felt his Soul pulse softly. Either this kid was some kind of aspiring artist, or he had a crush on Gaster.

  
Sans rushed out of the lab and down to the waterfront, looking down the river towards Waterfall and Snowdin. He could hear the soft swishing of the riverperson heading some way or another, and he could only hope it was towards him. He wasn’t sure if Papyrus had his keys on him, and either way he would’ve expected Sans home by now.

Unfortunately, the riverperson was not coming towards Hotland. That gave Sans entirely too much time to think, sitting on the riverbank. He had had a good first day at work. Really good. Maybe too good. His boss was really hot, and he could see it becoming an issue in the near future.

He was a bit too worried about Papyrus to be thinking about his crush on his boss, though. What if he was just stuck outside in the cold? He was still just a kid. A junior in high school. He never really had to grow up until this year. He had always had their mom to look after him. But not anymore. Sans put his head in his hands. He was being a terrible older brother. Their mother had placed her trust in Sans to care for Pap, and he was letting her down. He had done his best. Sold hotdogs for a while, tried to get a job, actually got a real job. But he wasn’t there for Papyrus, not like he ought to be.

Finally the riverperson showed up, and Sans climbed aboard gratefully. He much preferred their idle wisdom to his own internal musings.

Upon arriving in Snowdin Sans thanked them vehemently before rushing home. He didn’t see Pap sitting outside, so that was a good sign. Fresh footprint marked the snow leading to their front step. He unlocked the door and found his brother sitting on the couch eating spaghetti.

“HI SANS! I WASN’T SURE WHEN YOU’D BE HOME, SO I ATE WITHOUT YOU. I MADE SPAGHETTI,” he explained excitedly.

Sans smiled, thankful that Pap was doing alright. “great! how was your day?” he asked, heading into the kitchen to get himself dinner. Papyrus’s spaghetti wasn’t exactly… great… but Sans liked to humor him by eating it anyway. He’d have some cereal later or something.

As they sat together and watched Pap’s favorite show, Papyrus shouting over it about the math test he had today, Sans couldn’t help but feel content. Things seemed to be looking up for the brothers. In a lot of ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its short, im sorry, i just wanted to get something up. i hope that angst was as good for you as it was for me ;)


	3. like molasses

Sans was running late. It was only his second day, and he was running late. Despite that, he made sure Pap had his key and a lunch before rushing out the door. Riding with the riverperson was always a bit of a gamble, but there was no way in hell he was walking all the way through Waterfall with only half an hour until he needed to be at work. Luckily, when he reached the riverbank, they were headed towards him from Hotland.

Today was starting to go a bit better, at least. He asked the riverperson if they could go a little faster than usual since he was running late. All they said was, “Tra la la. The water is very dry today.” but the ride definitely seemed shorter than usual.

Finally, they arrived at the riverbank in Hotland, and the walk to the Lab was short from there. He hurried through the front doors, pausing in the lobby to try and recall the instructions Gaster had given him yesterday. There was still no one at the help desk, and he began to wonder if it was just there for show. He headed back behind the lobby chairs, trying to fish his keycard out of his work backpack and walk at the same time. Again, the bright white lighting and overwhelming stench of bleach hit him hard as he opened the door. He wondered what was upstairs and almost started to head up instead of down before pulling himself out of the daze. He was running late and had no time to spare for flights of fancy. Heh. Flights.

When he had finished the trek to the lower labs he set his things down next to the desk in the anteroom. He didn’t want it getting in the way of any dramatic sweeping across the room Gaster had to do. He seemed to do that quite a lot.

Upon entering the second lab, however, Sans found no Gaster to do any dramatic sweeping at all. He glanced at the watch he had taken to wearing on his left wrist (it had been his mother’s, and was slightly too large, but he didn’t have an alternative). It was 9:07, meaning he was seven minutes late, and Gaster should be waiting impatiently at his desk or something a boss would do.

Instead of standing around uselessly, he decided to sit down uselessly, and sat heavily into the desk chair where he had been working yesterday. He pulled open the drawer to maybe work on his sketches of Gaster, but did not see it. Hadn’t he put it back yesterday? Did Gaster take it? He wasn’t particularly fond of the prospect, given the incriminating drawings he had very obviously dog-eared. But, he reminded himself, there was nothing to be done at this point. If he didn’t want his boss to find out he thought he was hot and had been sketching him in secret, maybe he shouldn’t have done that sketching in his boss’s personal notebook.

Since there was no notebook to draw in, he decided to check out the Blaster control system up close. Not wanting to sit in Gaster’s chair, he just wandered over and sort of hovered around the area, examining the buttons and the display. It was off, so there wasn’t much to see, and nothing was labeled, but it was still fascinating. It was essentially just a gun, so how much could really go into controlling it? Apparently quite a bit.

If Sans had any skin, he would’ve jumped out of it when he felt Gaster touch his shoulder lightly from behind. He hadn’t heard him come in, hadn’t even noticed him approaching, but he seemed to be standing directly behind Sans.

“Why don’t you let me worry about controlling the Blaster, hm?” Gaster suggested with a chuckle, gesturing to Sans’ desk for him to sit.

“oh yeah, sorry doc. i was just curious what the console looked like,” Sans explained, embarrassed.

“Speaking of curiosity, I meant to speak with you about something before we get started today.” Gaster spoke softly, as though there was no ill intent behind his words, but Sans sensed there was more to this than an offhand conversation. “I found your little drawings yesterday after you left.”

Sans looked up sharply from where he had been fiddling with his pen. His Soul was pounding behind his ribs, and he could only hope that Gaster wouldn’t notice.

“If you want to take notes on the Blaster and try to work it out then that’s fine, but you should know that it is confidential stuff. You can’t take any diagrams out of the Lab, and you can’t tell anyone what you… deduce. God knows what we’d do if a weapon like that fell into the wrong hands and they actually know what to do with it,” he said darkly.

Sans stared blankly at Gaster, who was handing him the notebook. He had to be kidding. He hadn’t thought to turn the paper over? Or had he seen the other sketches, too, and just not said anything? As usual, Gaster’s face was unreadable, so Sans settled for taking the notebook and opening to a fresh page.

"Oh, and one more thing! I apologize for not having it arranged yesterday, but you have an office now. I'll show you where it is at lunch. Just across the hall from mine, which will be convenient." Sans almost blushed at that, having to remind himself that it was just because he was Gaster's assistant. 

After that, the return to professionalism was swift and just, if a bit of a let-down. Sans was half expecting some climactic confrontation about the drawings, but he couldn’t complain. The rest of the day went by like molasses: terribly slow but sweet nonetheless. It was all just math and analytics, but Gaster was good company, and Sans certainly appreciated all the compliments on his notetaking. He even stayed late to finish everything up for tomorrow, as Gaster had informed him that the rest of the team would be returning, and he felt safe in the knowledge that Papyrus had his keys and plenty of leftovers to eat. 

He also felt safe in having spent a very healthy amount of time _not_ looking at Dr. Gaster today, as much as he had wanted to. He didn’t want to risk incurring any suspicion although, from the looks of things, there wasn’t much risk involved. Half the time he glanced up at Gaster, he found the man already looking. It made him smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is kinda short but the next one is up also very soon, so it's basically like one 2500 word chapter instead of two 1250 chapters ;)


	4. essentially hell (but kinda nice)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> brief mention of suicide, death of a loved one. really, really not explicit or graphic, but fair warning anyway. slight description of a panic attack.

The next day started out hectic from the moment Sans entered the lower labs. Instead of a cozy, peaceful anteroom where Sans could set his things and take a moment to collect himself, he walked into what was, essentially, hell.

Three new people were waiting to ambush him with friendliness just as he opened the door. Two of them were smiling and trying to shake his hand at the same time while introducing themselves; the third was just sort of waving from the background. He endured several moments of this terrible excuse for conversation before Dr. Gaster finally came in.

“Goodness, give the boy some air,” he said sharply, seeming to cause everyone else in the room to spread out just from his presence. He was, after all, a very commanding figure, especially when curtly giving orders.

He turned to the one on the left and stepped back, holding a hand in Sans’ direction and a hand in the scientist’s. “Sans, this is Han-Ei. They’re our main coordinator with the CORE. They handle making sure we don’t take in too much electricity when powering our big ritzy projects. Han-Ei, this is Sans. He’s my new assistant.” He gestured broadly at them, apparently encouraging them to shake hands. Han-Ei was tall, with a feminine build and thick, scaly, green skin. Unlike the other scientists, they weren’t wearing a lab coat. Instead, they wore gray jeans and a green tank-top. Their handshake was firm and cool.

“Sorry I’m dressed down today, I know it’s not polite for introductions,” they began in a raspy voice. When they spoke, he could see their long, sharp, white teeth. He shuddered a bit. “I won’t be here for long. Most of my business actually takes place at the CORE. I just came in to report to Dr. Gaster,” they explained. Sans nodded politely. He hadn’t really noticed that they were ‘dressed down,’ just that they weren’t wearing a lab coat. He certainly hadn’t thought it was impolite. He wasn’t wearing one either. Was he being impolite? He suddenly felt slightly insecure about that. Han-Ei was a bit intimidating, to say the least.

Gaster then turned to the scientist on the right, gesturing similarly. “This is Cameron. He’s our expert on human magic. He’s the reason everyone’s been gone for a week,” Gaster said pointedly. Cameron started to interrupt, likely in some form of justification, but Gaster held up a hand to stop him. “Cameron, this is Sans. You just heard me introduce him to Han-Ei, so I won’t bother with it again.”

Sans reached out to shake Cameron’s hand but at first he recoiled. Sans held up his hands apologetically until Cameron reached his hand out to shake. He appeared humanoid, definitely mammalian, with a long, pointed snout that ended in a pink button nose. He was covered in dishwater brown fur and had very thick glasses perched at the end of his snout. He clutched a clipboard very tightly to his chest, and the hand he extended was shaking badly. Sans shook it gently, trying to be comforting to avoid startling Cameron again.

Lastly, Gaster turned to the scientist in the middle. “Sans, this is the esteemed Dr. Alphys, my second-in-command. She’s actually responsible for most of the things we do in the Lab. I’m just here to facilitate,” he joked graciously. Sans could tell he was trying to make Dr. Alphys happy. She seemed to be something of a favorite. Sans wasn’t entirely sure why, but he’d be nice to her anyway.

“Pleased to meet you, Dr. Alphys,” he said, stepping forward to shake her hand. She seemed almost as nervous as Cameron when she extended her hand. Well, her claw. She was a short, round, yellow reptilian monster. She smiled nervously at him.

“P-please, just Alphys,” she said. She, too was clutching a clipboard. Sans gave her a grin and repeated it to reassure her that he would call her what she wished. He had plenty of experience with reassuring people of things because of Papyrus. He was confident, sure, but he needed lots of reassurance to keep him there.

Introductions finally finished, they got to work. Apparently Gaster needed to compare their analysis of the Blaster with the analysis of the barrier, leaving Sans essentially useless. He sat at his desk and fiddled with his pen for quite some time before Han-Ei asked him for some help before they left. They handed him their clipboard and him write down numbers as they compared the analysis of the Blaster to a chart they had produced from their back pocket. He felt less useful than the chart.

When Han-Ei left, Sans was left to sit in his chair again. He watched has Alphys and Gaster exchanged notes and chatted loudly. Even Cameron was part of the conversation, adding in bits about the magical aspect of the barrier. He knew it was ridiculous, but he felt himself slipping out of rationality. He had been prone to panic attacks since their mother died. Usually it was big, overwhelming things that set him off, but he had just been so on-edge lately. He wasn’t really surprised. He was just glad he was able to catch it early, so he could deal with the panic in private.

Sans had been sitting on the floor in his new office for several minutes when Gaster finally came to see him. It had been enough time, thankfully, for him to calm down a little. His Soul was still thumping in his chest, and he could see his hands shaking a bit, but his breathing had slowed and his vision had stopped spinning.

“Are you alright?” Gaster asked, sliding down the wall to sit next to Sans. “Actually, don’t bother answering that. It was rhetorical. I can see that you aren’t, and I have a feeling that you haven’t been for a while now. The real question is do you want to talk about it?”

Sans looked up at him, the light shining through the open door forming a pale yellow halo around Gaster’s face. Sans wrapped his arms tightly around himself, trying to take deep breaths. “I’m not sure,” he responded softly. Gaster waited patiently, resting his elbows on his knees and leaning forward, a strangely childlike pose for such a refined man.

“it’s just that, for a minute there, i thought i might be goin’ somewhere. i thought i was doing well, learning fast, impressing you. i thought i was doing something right, you know? and i guess hearing everyone else talk smart about all that stuff i just don’t get was sorta… overwhelming. especially how you were all talkin’ to each other, and there i was, sittin’ at my desk, waitin’ for somethin’ to take notes on. i just felt stupid. and ever since my mom killed herself…,” Sans trailed off. Gaster leaned back on his hands, letting the distal phalange of his pinky cross paths with Sans’ thumb. He knew Sans wasn’t done speaking, and was going to let him continue when he was ready.

They waited for several moments, in a soft and easy silence that Sans was largely unfamiliar with. He was usually one to fill silences with jokes and grins, the loud kind, never pausing for a moment to gauge the _type_ of silence. He decided that he liked this type. He wasn’t sure why Gaster was taking time out of his day to comfort an intern-turned-assistant that he had only known for a couple of days, but he was sure of the way Gaster’s hand was creeping closer and closer to his own.

“there’s just a lot of pressure right now. i kinda worry that i won’t be good enough, or you won’t need me anymore, and then i’ll be out of a job. i gotta take care of papyrus somehow, and sellin’ hotdogs just doesn’t cut it anymore. he needs school stuff, and a lot of food, and mom only saved up so much. i didn’t expect to be caring for a teenager for a _long_ time, if ever. and here i am, twenty-one years old, trying to support my family. it’s a lot. i dunno. i was just feeling overwhelmed.” Sans sighed deeply, and Gaster knew he was done. He seemed to be doing much better now. He had stopped shaking, his breathing was controlled, and his Soul was more fluttering than pounding at this point, based on what Gaster could see and hear of it. He allowed his hand to completely cover Sans’, and savored the increase in the pace at which Sans’ Soul fluttered.

“You’ll be alright. I’m certain of it. Your job is safe as long as I’m around. I’m in dire need of an assistant, remember?” Gaster smiled, looking down at the younger skeleton. He moved his hand from covering to Sans’ to wrap his arm around the younger’s shoulders. “And you’ll figure out how to care for Papyrus very soon, I’m sure. It’ll be a breeze,” he chuckled, removing his arm from Sans’ shoulders. He stood up, coaxing Sans along with him. He grabbed his hand and lifted it up, pressing a bony kiss to Sans’ metacarpus, and then he was gone, having swept dramatically out of the room as he was so prone to doing.

Sans knew Gaster expected him to get back to work after having calmed down, but he needed a moment to himself, and he knew he wasn’t really needed, anyway. He slid back down along the wall, Soul pounding for an entirely different reason. What had he gotten himself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is literally as far as I've planned this fic hahahahaaha yikes


	5. shit is flying towards the fan at an alarming velocity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gay shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive given up on being a good author at this point im just trying to get the plot down im sorry lmao

Sans had been dreading returning to work ever since his panic attack and rather friendly encounter with Gaster, but he arrived to an empty lab with a note instead of an intimidating boss. He had sat down at his desk and pulled out the notebook to look over his sketches when he noticed the yellow sticky note inside it. It was towards the back and, when Sans flipped to it, his Soul felt as though it had turned itself inside out. The note was stuck in between two drawings of Gaster, including one of his face in very careful detail. The note didn’t seem to pertain to the drawings at all, though. It just said that he would be in late today and that Sans should get started on some paperwork while he waited.

Sans pulled the sticky note out of the notebook and smoothed it onto the desk. Gaster said he would be back by lunch, but not much earlier, and Sans had only been given two forms to fill out pertaining to his notes (Gaster didn’t want to trust him with too much more). He decided he could spare a few moments to look over the sketches Gaster had seen. It wasn’t anything too incriminating: one page was Gaster standing, bent over his desk, in profile. The other was a detailed account of his face as well as Sans could remember it without staring him down. He took a moment to admire his own work, eyes lingering on the hard curve of Gaster’s jaw and the deep grooves of his scars. He noticed a slight discrepancy in the length of his nasal bone and grabbed his pen to fix it. As he worked, expanding the dark shading where a human’s nose would be, he noticed several other mistakes, mostly on his drawing of Gaster’s body in profile. He decided to start over and draw it again, hopefully with fewer mistakes. After that, of course, he would do the paperwork.

Over the course of about an hour, he ended up drawing four different sketches of his boss, each one racier and more incriminating than the last. He finally set his pen down after finishing the fourth one and looked it over. It depicted Gaster leaning back in his desk chair, legs splayed, one hand sliding up his shirt to brush over his L3 vertebra. Sans felt a familiar warmth spreading outwards from his Soul as he examined his own handiwork. Gaster certainly looked good like that. His expression was one of pure debauchery, mouth open and eye-lights half dimmed. He imagined the real Gaster with that look on his face and shivered. He felt the heat migrate downwards as he let his eyes linger on the carefully drawn lower vertebrae. He glanced at the clock on the wall behind the desks. He definitely had time before Gaster would be back, but wasn’t it kind of a moral issue to jerk it at work? He let his hand slip lower anyway.

He deliberated for some time, eyeing the sketches of Gaster in certain compromising positions, his hand slipping lower with every second until it slid easily into his shorts. He glared at the paperwork and pulled it to the front of his pile, drawing his hand back out of his pants reluctantly. It looked complicated. Upon reviewing it, he was glad he had decided to get to work on it. He would have to carefully go back through all of his notes and do an ungodly amount of math, and that was only for the first form.  
  
  
  
An hour and a half later, he had finally made his through both worksheets. He was just setting his pen down when he heard the upper door to the staircase open and then slam shut. Slow footsteps began to echo down the stairwell. He shoved the notebook away into its drawer and shuffled the paperwork on his desk into orderliness. He pushed the rolling desk chair away from the desk a bit and turned to face the doorway into the anteroom, waiting for Gaster to enter. And waiting. And waiting. Eventually the door to the lab creaked open and Gaster slunk through it.

“Good morning, Sans,” he said, pulling the door closed behind him despite the fact that it closed automatically. He then leant against it, subsequently pushing it back open. He stumbled backwards and then stood back up, trying to look dignified. “We need to do more tests.” He turned towards the wall where the mock-barrier usually was. He squinted at it and then walked over the railing, leaning over it and looking hard. “Where’s the barrier? What did I… oh! I forgot to conjure it,” he mumbled, laughing to himself. He then looked down at his hands where Sans could see violet sparks bouncing between his phalanges. Sans felt his magic stir down around his pelvis, and focused on quieting it.

“Why isn’t anything happening?” Gaster asked when he looked back up at the wall. He clenched his fists and closed his eyes, magic spreading outward from his hands in a hazy ring, only to dissipate once more. “I… can’t conjure it? I guess I should have been a bit more careful at my meeting today. I was having breakfast with King Asgore, Sans, and let’s just say he likes his coffee Irish,” Gaster snorted. “Can you conjure the barrier for me?”

Sans stood up uncertainly, walking over to join Gaster at the railing. “Just a wall of magic? I guess so,” he said uncertainly. He hadn’t ever tried to make a wall. He had done plenty of training but it was all in attack magic. He brought his hands up and extended his arms, focusing hard on pooling his magic. His whole body surged with the surreal tingling heat of collected power. It felt as though he was vibrating from head to toe. He took a deep breath and, on the exhale, pushed all his magic outwards towards the opposite wall, visualizing a sheet forming. When he looked back up the wall was glowing a cerulean blue. He looked at Gaster for approval, only to find him staring down at Sans’ crotch. Sans looked down and saw, to his horror, a blue bulge glowing through his sweatpants. Focusing his magic must have made him conjure a something downstairs, out of ‘muscle’ memory.

“o-oh, um, sorry, sir,” he stuttered, covering himself clumsily with his hands. “but i conjured the wall so we can do the, uh, tests.” Gaster had not yet taken his eyes off of where Sans’ hands were now covering. His eyes flicked darkly up to Sans’ face, regarding his deep blue blush reverently.

“You blush very prettily, Sans,” he said, making eye contact with him for a few heated seconds before turning away abruptly. “Excuse me a moment. I thought I was fit to work this morning but it seems I am still a bit too inebriated. I’ll be back in a moment after I’ve had some coffee and fresh air.”

Sans sat back down at his desk heavily, willing his cock into non-existence. He wasn’t sure what to make of the situation. Initially, he had been mortified. His boss had essentially seen his weird glowing ecto-dick, but then he had flirted about it? Sans just didn’t know how to feel. Obviously he was very attracted to Gaster, sexually and probably romantically, so was he just reading into things too much? But there was the thing where Gaster had practically held his hand, and how he had definitely seen the lewd artwork but not said anything… it definitely seemed like Gaster was interested, or at least was leading Sans to believe so. Did he want to pursue anything with his boss? It would be really bad if things went south… but really, really good if they didn’t.

A few minutes later, Gaster returned. “Ready to get to work?” he asked, all business. “I apologize for my indecent behavior earlier. Let’s just put it behind us and get to the tests, hm?”

Sans nodded in agreement, blushing again. “sorry about my, um, you know,” he trailed off, feeling partially responsible for Gaster’s reaction. Gaster shook his head and gave a grin like the damned cat that ate the canary. He didn’t seem to think Sans had much to apologize for.

“Despite that, like I said, let’s just move on. Got your notebook out? I’m going to turn on the machine now.” Sans grimaced as he flipped through the notebook to an empty page. There was plenty of debauchery to have to flip through. The Blaster roared to life as Sans turned on his monitor, putting his pen to the paper in anticipation.

When Gaster fired it, though, everything went to shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;)


End file.
